


"I'm Used To Being A Social Pariah"

by poisonous_panda



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Complacency, Deception, Destruction, Gen, Human Experimentation, Insomnia, Social Outcast, Starscourge, Traitor, ardyn dlc, daemon, episode ardyn, project deathless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 02:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17819789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonous_panda/pseuds/poisonous_panda
Summary: My first try at first person! You can say the narrator is the Reader or just an unknown person, it's up to you :)I loved the trailer for Episode Ardyn at the end of his anime, seeing Ifrit rampage through the streets inspired me. This is more therapy than anything. Imagine this narrator is from Insomnia, only rarely returns for a specific reason and has "no love lost" for this city due to a traumatic past. Amongst all the rubble, bodies and raging flames, does Ardyn finally meet a kindred spirit after so many millennia locked up alone? And will he take such an offer of friendship, or is his mind too far gone that he'll only use it to his own ends like everything else? (Spoiler - he does)





	"I'm Used To Being A Social Pariah"

**Author's Note:**

> I genuinely wouldn't care if Ardyn burned my own hometown to the ground and I'd moved away years ago, so I used that indifference to create this narrator

I hate coming back here.

Twenty-odd years have passed since I was that angry teenager, the outcast that the inhabitants of this disgusting city made me feel like. Insomnia was an apt name, I certainly suffered with it during my school years, along with absolutely shattered self-esteem. Children can be cruel, that's why I refuse to have any. Something as stupidly small as a skin blemish like a mole or a freckle, or if your interests didn't align straight away with your peers was enough to ensure you were ostracised for life.

Why wouldn't my parents move away like I did all those years ago? We had no extended family, it was just us four - although my sister would never leave the city. She loved the glamour of it too much. She is just as bad as the rest of these scumbags. We haven't spoke since I moved away several years ago.

The only reason I've set foot in this dark city is to visit my parents' graves. It's the celebration of the city's founding today by some great King or another. I couldn't care less, if he was so wonderful I bet he would hate how his people behave now. Bitterly ironic that the anniversary of Insomnia's founding is also the anniversary of the day I lost the only two people that meant anything to me. They were caught in the crossfire of a gangland turf war. Insomnia is rife with gangs fighting over 'turf', but Astrals forbid you ever see it in the newspapers. They would rather write about the Six who we should be grateful to for allowing our city to flourish because they helped build it upon Starscourge-scorched land. 

Well... where are they now? The Scourge still ravages our Star.

What about victims of gangland violence? What about children pissing themselves with fear at the thought of going to school and facing bullies? What about the people trapped in abusive relationships? 

Who would save any of them from this deteriorating city?

Nobody. That's who.

Looking both ways before I crossed the road, the Cactuar green light didn't even lift my spirits as it used to as a child. It feels both familiar but also strange - like I'm remembering another life. The music pounding through the pavement mixed with the chatter of the excited citizens gave the streets an air of celebrations, and yet despite there being no reason as to why, as usual I felt like I was on the outside looking in. Separated by a sheet of thick glass. I was never one of _them_ growing up.

And now I never want to be.

I'm only here to pay my respects to my family, then I'll vanish again.

Trudging over the small green leading to the cemetery just off the centre of the city, I pause briefly at the giant iron gates and look off to my right. I can see the twin towers of the Citadel. It's a beautiful building, but I can't help condemning the Royal Family. Never had to worry about lasting impressions of people around them because they're rich and their positions are secure. So what if people didn't like them or made fun of them? Hell they were probably all judgemental bastards themselves.

Swallowing my bitterness before it got overwhelming, I walked through the cemetery's iron gates. Coming back here always seems to bring out the worst in me - like reopening an old wound and allowing the toxins back in.im so much more carefree back in Lestallum, my chosen home.

Pushing the venom from my mind as I approach the two plaques in the cremation section, I locate my parents instantly.

Too many years have passed for me to cry every time I visit; indeed I don't even have anything to say. I've already screamed at them here, wishing they'd moved away, cursing their ignorance to my pleas and damning their killers to hell. We never did get justice - gangs always get away with their crimes.

So instead I knelt down and put one hand first on my father's plaque, then my mother's. The metal had been warmed by the midday sun and was pleasant on my fingertips, and the air was heavy with the smell of freshly cut grass. Strange such a nice sensation could be found in a place steeped in death.

There were a few bangs in the distance, and they didn't sound like part of the festivities. But truthfully I ignored them. They were none of my business.

It wasn't until I heard the screaming echo through the streets that instinct got me to my feet and I bolted down the cemetery and out of those iron gates.

How I hadn't smelt the smoke before is beyond me. There were little fires everywhere and people running in every which way screaming.

Who started the fires? Where's everyone going?

While I stood there dithering, the giant screens across the city all showed the same image.

An older man with a stubbled face, golden eyes, reddish purple hair and an evil smirk. I had no idea who he was, but he seemed to know Insomnia well.

"Do forgive me for interrupting the festivities," he laughs, "But I must tell you this day of rapturous revelry will be your last."

It's the way the man said "last", dragging the last two letters out and allowing his voice to get softer. Such authority, such certainty. In that moment I didn't care for his reasoning, but I was utterly bewitched. He'd even given me goosebumps on my arms. 

There were louder screams and stomps like giant footsteps further in front of me, so despite my better judgement, I tenderly wandered over to see what was going on despite the deafening din.

Was that.... Was that the Infernian?! Surely not!

The sudden shock of seeing the fiery demon sent my heart all a-flutter and I seriously thought I was going to vomit. It seems the fairy stories weren't stories after all - which makes it even worse that the Astrals never bother to intervene in their creation's time of need. Yet I'm sure the old stories say you must best an Astral in combat before they would even dream to serve a mortal? And the only ones allegedly truly capable of such feats were members of the Royal Bloodline. But... who was this guy? Thankfully the Pyreburner hadn't seen me, so I quickly turned the street corner to break the line of sight.

"Call it divine retribution," came the strange man's oddly reassuring, smooth voice from the screens again, "False Kings and fraudulent nations are fated to perish."

I won't lie, my stomach knotted into a bit of excitement. Maybe this cleanse is just what Insomnia needs?!!

"Resist if you wish," the charming man finished, "But know that your fight against fate is a foolish and futile one."

Then something unbelievable happened. The strange charismatic man seems to _morph_ into a soldier bearing the Insomnian armour. Then the screens faded to black.

Yet the screaming and crashing and exploding continued all around me. And wherever the Infernian tread, flames ignited where his feet met the ground. 

Insomnia was going to burn to the ground. Yet I felt nothing but indifference for the Capital's impending doom. Even innocents are guilty of complacency here - nobody spoke out against the gangs, nobody would comfort an ostracised child, nobody interferes in abusive family units. Everyone was guilty of something here - a city of sin. <\p>

There was a strange clinking of metal coming from my right, and when I looked over I could see a whole regiment of soldiers armoured to the back teeth with their rifles in hand. They didn't acknowledge any of the citizens around them as they moved as one giant formation and headed down the street where I had last seen the Infernian. They were marching to their deaths, and I think they knew it. Only a member of Royal Blood could take down an Astral - yet again I wondered who the strange golden eyed man was who seems to have tamed Hell's flames. Maybe the stories aren't true after all?

Regardless, I had no desire to find out the soldiers' chosen fate.

What I did want, was to find that man. I _needed_ to know his reasons for wanted to raze this city. I think I'm just excited to find someone with the same world view as me.

When that man was on the screen, it looked like he was in the city centre's main square. I was sure I'd seen the figure of the centrepiece fountain off the side of the screen. So, turning in the direction that the soldiers had come from, I ran to where I thought he may be. 

There were small fires enveloping the sides of the streets, and the flames were licking at the smaller buildings dwarfed by the skyscrapers as if they were hungry dogs. Although it seems our buildings were made of stronger stuff and the materials were keeping the fires at bay for now.

As I approached the city centre, the place began to get gradually more deserted as the populace made their way to the outskirts for safety. Now I'm even more convinced I'm going the right way.

Oh fuck.... yeah... I'm definitely going the right way.

If the gunshots in the distance hadn't already alerted me, the dead soldiers with what look like holes where swords impaled them certainly did. The black brickwork of the city centre square was stained crimson from the sheer amount of blood seeping from the downed soldiers. And there... sitting on the edge of the fountain... was that strange man's black hat that he was wearing in his broadcast. It was placed so casually, as if he had simply calmly taken it off before the battle began. Surely he hadn't taken on all these soldiers alone? He'd be dead by now.

And yet... the gunshots in the distance seem to tell another story.

I step over the soldiers' corpses and gingerly make my way over to the fountain and pick up the hat. Approaching someone who has clearly made themselves an enemy of the city I belong to would surely mean he'll kill me on sight, so this could be a peace offering to entice him to speak to me. Clasping the rim of the well worn fedora, I follow the sound of the commotion.

I reach some massive stone steps leading down to the shopping district and I can see the man there, facing off against four soldiers. So I crouch down and use the small stone walls acting as banisters to watch the battle whilst staying out of sight.

It's... It's unbelievable how he seems to WARP! I thought only the Royal Family could do that?! But then it does explain how he tamed the Infernian. I wonder if he is a bastard of the Lucis Caelum line here to wreak havoc on the family that has cast him out? I felt a small sense of kinship with the man at that, granted my family were kind and loving, but it seems we may both know how it feels to be locked out of social groups; demonised even. After all, his anger must have come from somewhere. And he certainly _dressed_ regally in the black Lucian colours. His pinstripes were reminiscent of our good ignorant King Regis too.

Interesting.

I was so busy looking at his needlessly intricate clothing I hadn't noticed the fight was over, with the strange man being the clear victor.

"It's rude to stare!" he shouts jovially up the stairs in my direction.

Blushing at being caught, I hide behind the stone wall and hope he thinks I've run away.

But no. He knew I was here. The smug bastard warped from where he was, up the steps and right in front of me in one motion. My eyes barely had time to register his massive red sword before he materialised in front of me in a burst of red light.

All I could do was sit there on my bottom with my knees drawn up, clasping his hat in my hands with my mouth hanging open.

Despite his nasty threats broadcast citywide earlier, the man extended a gloved hand to me.

"It'll do you no good sitting on cold stone my dear," he smiles with a twinkle in those golden eyes, "Nor does it seem particularly intelligent wandering onto a battlefield."

I wanted to tell him that he intrigued me, irritated me with that air of confidence he carried and that I wanted to understand why he was going on a rampage. But nothing came out. So I just took his hand and stood up. 

He held my hand there while he regarded me, probably to make sure I couldn't run away. I wouldn't have anyway, not after taking so long seeking him out. 

Satisfied, he let my hand drop. Then he turned his back on me and flicked his hand up at me.

"Off with you, I have business to attend to." he says silkily as he casually strolls back down the brick steps.

"Wait!" I tell him, almost panicked in case he warped off so I'd never find him again, "I wanted to talk to you!"

He stopped in his tracks and half turned to properly look at me. His eyes were full of surprise; such a contrast from the man he was a second ago so cock-sure of himself.

"And what could you possibly want, hmm?" he asks, turning fully now and placing his hands on his hips. I can't help but feel slightly patronised, but I ignore the feeling. I was a fool for thinking this would be easy.

Having him face me again made my stomach churn with nerves, so instead I just held his hat out. I kept staring at his face hoping I'll stop being frightened and be used to him enough to string a sentence together. I still couldn't get over the powers he'd displayed. 

His eyes widened happily upon seeing my gift.

"A-ha! Thank you very much!" he says in that jovial voice again as he takes it from me and places it upon his crazy mane of reddish-purple hair.

"Don't leave yet." I muster up the courage to say in a relatively normal voice.

"Hmm? Enjoying my company that much?" he giggled like a schoolboy teasing a friend; honestly I wanted to smack him.

"Don't be a dick." I snap at him, to which he laughs a throaty, genuine laugh.

"Well well well, you seem to have more gall than the soldiers! What is it your after hmm? I am a busy man, sorry to rush you." he tells me, but he also oddly bows at the waist.

"Don't bow to me, if anything why aren't you in the Citadel with powers like that?" I ask him, pointing behind him, down to the dead soldiers.

He feigns not knowing what I mean, and looks over his shoulder.

"Ohhh that," he drawls, dragging the words out like he did earlier when he gave me goosebumps, "It's a minor family dispute I intend to fix momentarily." He waves his hand as if it really is nothing more than a minor dispute, but his destructive actions clearly demonstrate otherwise. "Anyway," he continues, "That wasn't what you came here for, you couldn't have known of my... capabilities... before you saw them."

"No your right," I fess up, I'm feeling more comfortable now, this guy is quite easy to talk to, "I wanted to know why you're so angry."

He seemed stunned. I actually stunned him! So I carried on talking before nerves strangled my voice.

"I have no love lost for this city, I've never fit in and the cunts I grew up with made sure I knew that every day. I only come here to visit my parents' graves otherwise I'd never come back. They were killed by gang members, caught in the crossfire of a turf war. Of course the police nor royal family give a shit, they don't like to report things like that in the newspaper. It's all a fucking farce to think this city is amazing but it's not. It's built on the big guy stepping on the little guy. That's why I'm glad I moved to Lestallum-"

He puts his hands on my shoulders.

"Breathe." he tells me calmly, those golden eyes piercing through my own. I had got so worked up and angry at the injustice of growing up in Insomnia I'd began to rant and hadn't realised my eyes were filled with tears.

"You're not wrong about Insomnia being built on someone stepping on another..." he says, still holding my shoulders, yet the colour of his eyes dimmed, as if his mind had wandered off somewhere else for a second.

"Can.. can I help you?" I ask him in almost a whisper. I'm terrified he'll laugh at me.

"Help me?" he questions, cocking his head to the side and letting his arms drop from my shoulders.

"Well... yeah.." I say, nerves making me break my sentences, "With you on the throne, maybe you can clean this city up-" his face broke into a huge smile which i hoped to hell was genuine because his eyes looked cute when they sparkled like that, "And the fact you tamed the Infernian says a lot about you. I bet Regis or Mor never bested an Astral!" 

He laughed again, "Oh dear you sound as bitter as I am!" 

"Don't laugh at me." I scold him, crossing my arms and furrowing my brows.

He stops talking, smiles a goofy smile then bows again.

"Forgive me, I just didn't expect to find such a flower blooming on a battlefield like this. What makes you think your people do not deserve your forgiveness? Rather than side with a monster like me?"

It took me a second to realise he was referring to me. I'd never been called a flower before. I carefully consider his question before answering.

".... I'm used to being a social pariah," I tell him honestly, "They never accepted me as a child, so I don't accept them now I'm an adult."

He stares at me a moment before speaking. 

"Hmm... Lestallum you say?" he asks me, his voice laced with what I think was consideration.

"Yep." I smile, uncrossing my arms.

"Hmm..." he puts his hand on his chin and paces back and forth on the stair he's on, "Would you consider moving to Niflheim?"

"What?!" I almost screech at him, caught so off-guard that I took a step back, "That's three continents away!"

"Yes yes yes I know, I know, but there's a train that goes from Accordo straight to the capital of Gralea. If you can get across the Lucian sea then you'll find the passage rather simple." He's still pacing, it makes me a little uncomfortable.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask him, "Your pacing is making me... nervous."

"Oh do forgive me!" he says, stopping on the spot and holding his hands up, "It's just, my dear friend the honourable esteemed scientist Verstael Besithia, is working on something called Project Deathless. You see, we care so much for our people that he wants to find a way to stop having fatalities in this... senseless war with Lucis."

"Deathless?!" I repeat back, I can feel the blood draining from my face as I take another step back away from him and end up with the bottom of my back pushed against the brickwork banister, "I've heard of that! You're experimenting with daemons!"

"Daemons?" he repeats incredulously, and I must admit his surprise seems so genuine I actually feel guilty saying anything, "Where have you heard that nonsense?"

"It's..." I wring my fingers and look at the floor, "It's in all our newspapers."

The man laughs, but it seems good-natured.

"Well, you would all believe your newspapers wouldn't you. But no. Nobody can play about with daemons, they'll tear you apart the moment you try." I chance looking up at him, and he's wearing such a kind smile that I feel even worse.

"Well.. I never introduced myself did I." he says, bowing at the waist again and removing his fedora, "Ardyn Izunia, Chancellor of Niflheim, originally known as Ardyn Lucis Caelum and I am here to retake my throne."

I was numb to his announcement, so much has happened I think it was too much to process. So again I just stood there staring as he straightened up. A few moments of silence pass until he breaks it again.

"Well my dear, I truly must go now. Get out of here before the Infernian finds you. And mayhaps we will meet again in Niflheim." He seemed so nice, I was actually sad to seen him wander down the steps and out of sight in the abandoned shopping district.

There was an almighty roar and a deafening crash somewhere in the city, and the sky was darkening with thick black smoke. It was definitely time to leave!

\------

\----

\---

\--

-

I was stupid.

I believed him.

I travelled to Niflheim. Saw a job advert for Project Deathless. Met Verstael, told him about meeting Ardyn.

The scientist shook my hand and told me I had the job straight away. His smile made my blood run cold but I was stupid and ignored my instincts.

I'm now in a cold bricked up cell with a single metal door in nothing but my underwear and a hospital gown. My fingers and toes are freezing.

They feed and water us, but I haven't bathed since I got here a couple of days ago.

I feel disgusting and uncomfortable.

At night I've heard unearthly growls.

My hatred for my birthplace blinded me to the nastiness in the rest of the world. I was so quick and eager to break my bonds to my past that I walked straight into this trap. I wanted so much to believe there was a paradise out there for me that I fell hook line and sinker for that damn Chancellor's charisma.

At least I will be reunited with my parents soon.

The lady in the cell next to me was called for 'treatment' two days ago, yet still hasn't returned. They're working down the corridor of cells so I'm next.

Wait... there's the sound of the electronic doors opening outside. Someone's coming.

The hatch on my cell door is opened. I see those bright boyish blue eyes of the evil scientist.

He says hello but I face the wall from my sitting position on the floor. I have a bed but I don't feel like laying down.

He tries to say hello again and calls me by my number. We were all given numbers when we got here. But I ignore him still.

So he opens the door, so I finally tear my eyes from the green painted bricked wall and look at this monster.

He was in some ornate armour I didn't care to inspect, but he also had a syringe with clear liquid in it. 

A sedative, just like the girl next door to me. 

I'd heard what happens. The Lucians were right - the Niffs were experimenting with daemons. Merging them with humans to try and create the perfect monster. Us prisoners are sedated, then they commit unspeakable things to your flesh and bones with daemon matter. The host has to be unconscious for the daemon matter to fully infect the brain.

Nobody so far has survived the process.

Today is my turn.

I kick and scream as two soldiers run in to restrain me on the floor as Verstael injects the vein in my arm.

He tells me to stay calm, that it'll all be over soon.

I know it will, and I'm terrified.

But now I'm getting woozy. I feel drunk.

The scientist gets up and looks down at me as the two soldiers still hold my arms and legs down with their own hands and knees. 

Everything's a little off centre and I'm... struggling to focus.

I was a fool.

An utter utter fool

Nobody.... ugh my head.... nobody but myself to blame. And nobody will even notice I'm missing. Nobody will come for me.

Everything's blurry, but I can still see those horrible ice blue eyes. 

Mum, dad, I'll be with you soon. I hope nobody else makes my mista-


End file.
